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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801707">Princes of Hearts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjjade/pseuds/cjjade'>cjjade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober Flash Fiction Project (2020) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Andromache is a King not Queen, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Yusuf and Nicolo have struggles, Yusuf mother doesn't like Andromache, another love story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:48:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801707</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjjade/pseuds/cjjade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 3 of Kinktober;  Nicolò is the Prince of the Kingdom of Genoa, and Yusuf the Prince of The Maghreb Kingdom.  They know each other from battle, now Nicolò is on the tour of the The Maghreb Kingdom to celebrate one year of peace.  Nicolò and Yusuf come face to face outside the battlefield for the first time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache of Scythia &amp; Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober Flash Fiction Project (2020) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Princes of Hearts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Forgot to set an alarm, so when I looked at the clock realized I had ten minutes, so this has not been edited at all. Also the ending feels rushed but with ten minutes, you do what you can do. Hopefully everyone likes it, despite no editing. </p><p>THANK YOU!! For everyone who kudos and put a comment on Tired Oath.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Prompt: Royal Enemies - JoexNicky</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Time Limit: 3 hours </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Princes of Heart </strong>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò Genova looked out his window, at a very young age he had been told his mission was to serve his king, and in equal his kingdom.  He had two older brothers, one he didn’t mind so much but the other was a vile and cruel as their father in his younger days.  Michelangelo had a love for their god, it was the only reason Nicolò wasn’t in the church as planned.  Michelangelo had refused to carry a sword, refused to go fight in the old war, he refused everything that they were taught as right.  It was either banish Michelangelo making Nicolò take his place or let Michelangelo go become a priest and have Nicolò take his place.  Either way Nicolò lost, and he wondered if that thrilled their older brother, William.</p><p> </p><p>William was as vindictive as he was handsome, it pained Nicolò they shared the same eyes.  Name after their mother’s father, as Nicolò was named after their father’s father.  Only their mother’s father had been a honorable man, a man who valued art of all cultures and literature of hundreds of languages.  Their father’s father was if possible worse than their father and William combined.  Though their views on the people across the sea were not that far, his father at least appeared to not want another war.  Nicolò had fought as it was required by duty, then he stayed because he knew he had to.  His brother stayed behind the lines yelling orders, always displeased but never willing to cross that line. </p><p> </p><p>It was no wonder their people did not believe in him. </p><p> </p><p>Nicolò could never admit it out loud but he loved it here in the Maghreb Kingdom.  The weather was similar to that of his home country of Italy, but the people were warmer, kinder.  Walking down the streets of Morocco he never once was met with hostility, and if he were being honest he should be.  They should want him dead,  Days ago they moved to Tunisia, where they would meet the royal family of the Maghreb Kingdom.  He already knew one of them, the youngest son of the king and queen, Yusuf.  They had met on the battlefield many times and always battled one on one in the end.  It became sort of a ritual ,their men knew not to go after either of them.  They were each other's. </p><p> </p><p>Then came the day Nicolò saved his life, the shock in those eyes had him fleeing without words.  It was the last time they met on the battlefield, his father called a cease days before.  Then weeks later peace finally rang for both their people.  Almost five hundred years of bloodshed and wars, and his father and Yusuf's father finally spoke face to face.  William had been furious, he wanted the war, he wanted to invade, to conquer, to own them.  His father, Stephano, known for his cruelty and love of blood seemed to be tired of the war.  When he signed the treaty that day, Nicolò had never seen him look the way he did. </p><p> </p><p>Looking out the window he could see the beauty in his grandfather William's words, how he longed to see this. </p><p> </p><p>“My lord, Prince Nicolò,” a man stated politely smile on his face, he had seen Nicolò in battle.  Nicolò recalled him but the man never once showed him disrespect, or the hate he so deserved. “His royal grace, Prince Yusuf wishes to enter.”  </p><p> </p><p>Nicolò smiled softly giving him a curt nod.  The man was as curious as Nicolò was it seemed by his facial expressions as he began to open the door.  Nicolò smoothed down his pants and jacket, exhaling deeply in preparation.  He had never seen Yusuf out of his battle gear, he was not present at the treaty signing almost a year ago.  The fact that he had caught Nicolò attention covered in dirt and blood made him think badly of himself.  But Yusuf had a passion that Nicolò was not used to seeing.  His people were as cold and stiff as many had rumored them to be.  The women bland and superficial, and the men if possible were below them in every aspect.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò was now the second in line for the crown of Genoa, William named High Prince before Nicolò was even born.  Yusuf was the youngest of seven, having four older brother and two older sisters.  He went to war because every male in this kingdom served a year.  He stayed so his brother never had to return.  He had no wife, no children, no real claim to the throne, Nicolò could see where it made sense.  Since Yusuf’s grandfather women held equal claim to the throne, as well as the right to say no to any offer of marriage.  There were stories of the trails Yusuf's father, Ibrahim, went through to prove himself worthy of his mother, Amira, hand in marriage. </p><p> </p><p>Genoa was not like that, both his sisters married off to whatever suitor his father deemed best for Genoa as soon as it was legal. </p><p> </p><p>Nicolò held himself up like he had been taught since he could stand, as Yusuf slowly walked into the room.  Both eyed went wide as they saw each other for the first time outside of battle.  Nicolò tried not to look down at his own clothes that seemed dull in comparison to Yusuf’s own outfit.  The bright colors making his tan brown skin glow against the light of the sun coming into the room.  His once longer rough-looking beard now trimmed neatly, his hair that had been unruly bloody knots now combed and styled perfectly. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf walked in like Nicolò would assume any man of authority would.  Back straight, eyes focused, face stern as he looked around giving a nod to the man who quickly left.  Not before turning back to give Nicolò a look of encouragement followed by a look that he did not understand.  These people treated him like a year ago he was not their sworn enemy.  Like he had not spent over a decade fighting in a war that wished to enslave them.  He made many widows, sent too many young men to their grave long before their time.  Not because he wanted to, no he never wanted this war, but what choice did he have.</p><p> </p><p>“Mother wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything you needed,” Yusuf explained softly, but Nicolò could see the trembles in his hands.</p><p>“Tell her grace she has gone above and beyond,” Nicolò told him gently a soft smile gracing his face.</p><p>“There are books in our library she had brought in,” Yusuf stated seeing the book on the chair. "Many from your own county."</p><p>“I am fluent in Arabic,” Nicolò sighed looking down at the book that held more meaning than any other. “My grandfather, William, had a great love for your poetry.” Yusuf smiled, then walked past him to gaze out the window. “I see you healed well.” Yusuf went still but only for a moment. </p><p>“I have yet to thank you,” Yusuf sighed as a man caught his attention running across the path, a sometimes lover.  He looked up at Yusuf grinning, Yusuf nodded but turned quickly to Nicolò. “Still don’t know why you saved me?”  Nicolò only smiled gently, which Yusuf would admit later infuriated him.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò knew that if the roles had been reversed he would have been killed that day.  Yusuf’s people, his mother, Queen Amira, had showed him nothing but kindness during his tour.  Nicolò had thought it would show great peace if he tour the kingdom as a celebration of a year of peace.  William thought him mad, but his father agreed.  Nicolò knew the truth though, these people hate him, and rightfully so.  He was a reminder of five hundred years of bloodshed and blind bigotry.  His ancestors had deemed The Maghreb Kingdom theirs, solely because they wanted it, and sent their armies to invade.  They won of course, and for a while they ruled from afar as the King of Maghreb listened to their new ruler.  Then his grandson fought back, and so another war began. </p><p> </p><p>The Maghreb Kingdom were peaceful people, even five hundred years of war made them nothing to Genoa cruelty.  Something that Nicolò praised every day. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Nicolò fought because he had no other choice, not because he believed in the cause like William or his father.  He did when he was younger, believing these people to be less than him.  He had been taught this from the time he could understand words.  Then he met them, he grew to know their culture, their land, their written word.  He fell in love with the place that he was supposed to be conquering, and he feared what would happen if they won.  He recalled how his heart broke at the idea of this colorful vibrant place becoming Genoa.</p><p> </p><p>He came back with stories that William did not care for, as if no story meant anything to him.  These people were not people in his eyes, but his father seemed to listen.  for the first time in his life his father listened to his words.  Maybe it was Nicolò’s passion that he had got from these very people that had shifted his father once and for all.  Maybe it was the tale of his Nicolò victories, he was a hero in the eyes of Genoa.  His brother would boost of the campaigns he planned, but Nicolò was the one who saw them to victory. </p><p> </p><p>But finally, there would be peace, or so Nicolò hoped. </p><p> </p><p>XOXO</p><p> </p><p>Yusuf had no idea what to think of Nicolò Genova.  His mother had stated she heard rumors he wasn’t like his brother or father.  Tales from men who had been his captives, that he was different, he was kind.  He treated them well, never once showing them the cruelty they all knew as Genoa Kindness.  Several soldiers going as far to state he punished any man who would stop them from doing their daily prayers.  They had fought more times than any other, meeting on the regular for over five years.  Sometimes Yusuf swore the battles would stop, just so they could watch them fight.  Nicolò had more passion and thirst for life than any man Yusuf had ever met before. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf hated him for it.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò also had sad eyes.  He saw him out in the middle of Morocco weeks ago, going from stand to stand trying everything he could.  No one knew Yusuf was there, he just wanted a small look at his <em>once</em> enemy.  He treated everyone with such---thoughtfulness, that it was hard to recall that a year ago they were trying to kill each other.  He traveled as low key as he could, wearing no crown or royal emblem.  He shook hands were everyone no matter their class or profession.  Yusuf sat listening as his brother gasp at the message he was delayed because they stayed behind to help a farmer who needed aid due to a fire.  </p><p> </p><p>This was not what they expected. </p><p> </p><p>A year ago, Nicolò saved his life.  Only his mother knew this, the men had not known who he was.  Assumed he was just a soldier, Yusuf wore nothing that would identify him. They were ordered by Nicolò to let him and everyone else go.  Then one of them knew who he was.  He and a few others had hunted him down ready to send him back in pieces despite Nicolò and their King’s order to cease fire.  Yusuf had been tired, weak from hunger and thirst as he gave his rations to his men and the children, he barely had any strength in him.  Those men would have finished him off within seconds.  Nicolò came out of no where and to this day he had no idea why he did it.  His mother did not care, only that Nicolò Genova was there, and saved his life.    </p><p> </p><p>And everyone knew, Yusuf was her favorite. </p><p> </p><p>"These are breathtaking Prince Nicolò,” Queen Amira gasped seeing the framed drawing that Nicolò had present to her as gifts. “Are these yours.” Yusuf rolled his eyes, of course Nicolò would find out his mother's passion and true love was art.</p><p>“You flatter me your grace,” Nicolò laughed blushing, Yusuf hated how much he liked the sound, liked the color of rosy pink on his cheeks. “I do not hold such talent; these were my mother's father.” Queen watched Nicolò face soften as he looked at them. “Grandpa William could only dream of seeing your beautiful kingdom, but drew what he imagined it to look like from the tales he read.”</p><p>“We are honored by such a personal gift,” Queen Amira smiled looking to Yusuf who nodded at her faking a smile, god he wanted to punch him. “Our Yusuf here is quite the artist.” Yusuf shot a hot look at his brother as Nicolò heard them snicker under their breaths. “Before you leave I will have him give you a tour of his studio, it is a sight to behold.” Yusuf's eyes met Nicolò, who looked unreadable. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf went to war because one he was the youngest, all his brother had wives and children.  The second was because they never viewed him as their equal, not from the day he was born.  There was just something special about Yusuf to his mother.  That made him weak to them.  From the day he was born a connection that she didn’t have with the others.  He would stop crying to the music she loved in her soul.  He would watch the play as a baby never crying until it was over.  He absorbed every book she gave him.  Yusuf was a man of long forgotten tales, a man of poetry and sweet words, he was not a man of violence.</p><p> </p><p>That wasn’t even taking into count his artistic ability.  It was clear as a baby he had a talent his mother craved for.  His mother paid to ensure someone was always around to help cultivate it.  His nanny would make sure he had at least two hours a day to spend on his art.  Then it moved to poetry and writing stories as well.  His mother had books upon books of sketches and poems he had long forgotten but she never did.  Then she made him his special studio, a place to display his art with a large open back area to work without eyes on him all the time.  His mother loved him, he knew that, but it was hard to be loved by her most of the times when everyone else looked down on him.</p><p> </p><p>So like what was expected every male, he joined to fight, his mother screamed and his brother laughed. Until their father told, he was speaking truth.  Yusuf recalled the moment the silence happened, each one of their eyes upon him.  His sisters began to cry, begging him to reconsider.  Their mother had got him excused from doing his service a few years ago.  Something his brothers had not let him forget.  They had all done their year, they all had their scars to prove they were men.  They deserved their wives.</p><p> </p><p>His mother had demanded he with drawl his motion to join the war, his brothers in agreement looking to their father.  His father refused their request, even when his mother shrieked threats. It was Yusuf who got her to stand down.  He had to do this, he needed to do this.  Yusuf held no man’s respect until after his first battle when they saw.  His people finally knew he could hold a sword as well as a paintbrush.  With each passing day he gained more respect, after his year he returned home.  He had been on a six month campaign with no contact, his body showing the hardship he had endured.  Not one of his brother said a word as he walked towards them.  His mother cried as she held him, his father smiling as he pulled her off him.  She cried four months later when he left again.</p><p> </p><p>The day he stumbled into that camp, after being saved by Nicolò not one man could lie about their shock.  Everyone assumed he fought his way out, all of them knew he had the skill to do so, and was crazy enough to try.  He held the highest medals after that.  Yusuf wanted to be at the signing, felt after all his years in battle it was his right.  But once Nicolò was confirmed coming his mother told him no, Yusuf still had not forgiven her.  His brothers still made fun of him, still mocked his art, but now they did it quietly.  He was a decorated soldier, he was a prince, and now unlike them he could advise their father on battle and war.</p><p> </p><p>None of them had seen what he had seen, he could tell so by their eyes.  </p><p> </p><p>XOXO</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò’s brother William would be arriving in two days with his father.  This would be their first trip to Maghreb, unlike Nicolò who had spent his time for the past ten years here on and off.  William was known for giving orders from Genoa, or a boat overlooking the land, far away from any real danger.  Nicolò his second in command visited the troops, he also had his own men that followed him.  When he was present in any outfit Nicolò was in command, some did not take that well.  But Nicolò made sure they understood that was not up for debate.  For a few years before that he served as a regular soldier. nothing marking him a noble.  The horrors he witness, some of which still haunt him now over a decade later. </p><p> </p><p>Watched so many innocent men executed, hearing the pleasure of tales retold about the women they abused, and children sold secretly.  He vowed to stop it, did what he could in the shadows to make sure those were punished.  From sneaking bodies out so they could be reunited with their families.  Leaving doors unlocked so women and children could slip out of the camp in the dead of the night.  Then he ensured that his father placed William in charge of the entire military fleet, “he is to be King is he not.” That made William boost for it more.  Then William’s gave him his place as Military Commander for his loyalty both to him and Genoa. </p><p> </p><p>William was only ever any position by title only, he never saw one battle his father ensured that.  Nicolò and Stephano both knew he'd never make it, and Nicolò hated he almost wished that had happened.  </p><p> </p><p>“I demand to know why you saved me,” Yusuf yelled storming past him barging into his room.  Nicolò looked out confused to see not one guard, then back at Yusuf who looked at him like a mad man. “ANSWER ME!”</p><p>“We had a cease fire,” Nicolò explained softly watching Yusuf more than hearing him growl deep from within his body. “Is that not a good enough reason.” Yusuf's eyes went dark.</p><p>“I want the truth,” Yusuf demanded stalking towards him.</p><p>“Alright,” Nicolò told him feeling more defeated than ever before, he was just so tired of this facade. “I never wanted to be a part of this war, I never not once believe in its cause or my family’s claim to this land.” Yusuf felt the anger inside slow to a simmer, as Nicolò eyes turn to the darkest shade of grey. “I saved you for the same reason I never executed one prisoner while in command, why before I commanded I made sure all those executed made it home to be buried properly.” Yusuf felt Nicolò pain, his anguish in each word, the mist of tears in his eyes.  “I never touched one church or orphanage, never allowed one man to harm one woman or child.” Nicolò was suddenly in Yusuf’s space. “I didn’t want to be there, doing what my people wrongly yet blindly craved.”</p><p>“You hate us,” Yusuf stuttered, wanting to spit it out but even on his ears it came out weak.  Nicolò shook his head, finally admitting his great shame.</p><p>“Quite the opposite,” Nicolò whispered a broken smile gracing his sad face. “Your people taught me more than I could ever dream to learn." Yusuf watched as he softened.  "Every day was a new lesson, and every night I longed to just disappear into the sands, to fade from this world into the next.” Yusuf felt every single ounce of hate he had for this man deflate inside of him. “Mostly though I just didn’t want you to die.”  They were so close, that Yusuf ran. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf had heard stories about Nicolò Genova for many years, then he saw him in action on that field those years ago.  He had heard that no man from Genoa held his passion for battle or life, that had ever graced their sands before.  He had heard of his compassion and his kindness for others, even those not of his kingdom.  Not one woman or elderly spoke ill of their treatment while in his care.  If you came to him unarmed he would listen, he was not like others, he was a true man.  The hate his fellow men held for Yusuf was clear in their eyes, but Yusuf had never seen hate in Nicolò’s. </p><p> </p><p>His eyes showed so much.  He knew his brother was to be king, he knew his father was failing in his health.  He knew he had two sisters already married, both giving their husbands sons.  His brother was not married but was set to marry someone from his mother’s home country.  The only one that had no prospects was Nicolò, which Yusuf and his mother found odd.  Yusuf could admit Nicolò was not hard on the eyes.  Yusuf had been told by many of his lovers that his performance on the battlefield had been what attracted them.  Yusuf showed passion and stamina beyond any other, Yusuf was confused until he thought of Nicolò. </p><p> </p><p>Nicolò was powerful.  When he spoke, he spoke from his heart, Yusuf could not see this man ever speaking lies.  He recalled seeing him on the battlefield, he recalled them fighting, he recalled Nicolò defeating him that first time and then him the next.  Soon it was their game, some would say they didn’t care about the war anymore only defeating each other.  Neither Nicolò nor Yusuf could say they were not accurate, Yusuf found an equal in Nicolò Genova.  It was strange to think that Nicolò saw him as a equal, to think that maybe he saved his life because he wanted to. </p><p> </p><p>It also stung because Nicolò was two up on him. </p><p> </p><p>The next day Nicolò walked around Yusuf’s studio, smiling as each piece he saw painted a better picture of the man he once called enemy.  From his painting, to the sketches that lines the walls.  His mother was clearly proud of his ability.  As he walked with who he assumed was a servant, Quynh.  Later would find out she was a ward of his mother's and Yusuf called her sister.  She stopped him so Nicolò could gaze at Yusuf’s work that lined Amira's personal space.  As they walked in Yusuf rolled his eyes as she took him right over to the Queen’s favorite piece, the last piece he has shown anyone.  It was a sad piece of two lovers separated by what everyone assume was death.  Nicolò looked at it, but something was off with the way Quynh was describing it, he wondered if this was art imitating life. </p><p> </p><p>It was very clear that Quynh liked Nicolò, she laughed and giggled as she showed him more and more pieces.  Her eyes gazing over to a tall woman, with raven black hair, and her hand on her weapon.  Nicolò felt the instant need to ensure that there was always space between him and the young Quynh.  He could almost feel the sharpness of this guards look as Quynh would take his hand pulling him around the room.  Later Nicolò would discover it was on purpose.  Nicolò could not find it in him to be upset at being used, Quynh just had this way.</p><p> </p><p>“I never expected to be treated so warmly,” Nicolò admitted with a laugh as Quynh slipped away, following quickly after the female guard.  The one who obviously didn't know he spoke fluent Arabic. “You might tell your guard I have no eyes for that young woman.?”</p><p>“That’s Andromache of Scythia,” Yusuf told him with a laugh watching Nicolò eyes go wide. “She sought my council on winning over my mother.” Nicolò had heard stories of her, and her people, she took the title King not queen when she took over.  She took no part in this war, but everyone knew her loyalty was with The Maghreb Kingdom. “She’s in love with Quynh, and Quynh loves her but my mother has final approval of who she marries.” Nicolò nodded as though he understood, Yusuf huffed a laugh. “Quynh doesn't know, thinks Andy isn't interested, but Mother as refused Andy's request twice already.” Nicolò nods sadly.</p><p>“Is that what this piece is about,” Nicolò asked looking toward the painting that the Queen seemed to love.</p><p>“I hate this piece.” Yusuf grumbled then blushed when he realized he spoke the words out loud. “What I mean to say, there are no good memories when I gaze upon it.” Nicolò looked at him closely watching the heat in his eye, the broken way he speaks.</p><p>“First love,” Nicolò asked eyes going back to the painting over the forms of the bodies, the way they were separate but the same, following the lines.  When it struck him, like a sharp pain in his own heart. “These are not lovers.” Nicolò stated face horrified looking at Yusuf who gazed at him just as shocked. “They appear to be at first glance but…” Nicolò stopped as the red lines spoke to him, the brown going into the black bleeding into dark red that rested against blue as cold as ice. “This was your first battle.” Yusuf watched as Nicolò eyes followed each line, as if he were connecting dots. “You are both these people.” Nicolò voice distant, like Yusuf was listening to someone at the end of a cave.  “One yearning for what they have lost, while the other sees not what they have.” Yusuf has never had one person see this piece, not even his father or Andy.  Both who had seen battle, so many battles.</p><p>“It’s the only piece I have done since going to war,” Yusuf admitted looking from Nicolò to the painting. “It was after a six-month campaign about a year before we met on that field.” Yusuf recalled the first time it all hit him, he had tried to shut it off, but the faces would not stop coming to him. “I came home after my year, spent four days locked in here just painting.”</p><p>“That’s blood,” Nicolò realized seeing the stains in random spot, Yusuf nodded.  Recalling his hand injury, but he couldn’t stop, and now he couldn’t begin.</p><p> </p><p>Yusuf had heard stories of William, everyone knew that he had not been in battle.  He had barely made it through training, could barely hold a sword.  Nicolò on the other hand had proven himself, he was a fine warrior but he had a code of honor.  It was clear that Nicolò never wanted this war, it was clear that if war seemed to start again he would not fight.  Yusuf wondered if maybe he'd come to their side.  From what he saw he had a love for this customs, their ways, and his people liked him. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf had caught the end of a tale of a group of women.  One finally whispered that they heard from her brother that Nicolò Genova had taken many male lovers from the Maghreb Kingdom.  It was why he had no wife, he desired no wife.  He wasn't to be king, so they assumed men from Genoa saw no reason to seduce him.  Another stated seeing as his sisters both had sons even if he became king he could name one of them heir.  Yusuf was shocked, everyone knew Nicolò preferred men.  But he didn't know he had been with---that could not be. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf stayed up all night wondering, if maybe...</p><p> </p><p>“My mother thought it a tale of the lovers who were forever separated.” Nicolò watched Yusuf as he starred at his work, face blank.</p><p>“Why did you never tell her,” Nicolò asked eyes going back to the painting.</p><p>“She was…,” Yusuf started recalling her face the moment she saw him. “It touched her like nothing I had ever done before, where I painted torn flesh, she saw passion, where I stroked death she felt life.” Nicolò smiled as Yusuf stared so hard wanting to see what she sees. “I want to see what she sees, I needed to feel what she feels…” Nicolò put his hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Yusuf,” Nicolò whispered waiting for him to look over at him, when he did Nicolò cupped his face. “What she sees comes from within her.  She thankfully does not know war like we do.  She has not gazed into the eyes of death himself, only to have him walk along to take another.” Yusuf gulped as Nicolò eyes turned that dark shade of grey, like the sea after a raging storm. “Never held a brother soldier or small child as they take their last breath.” Yusuf nodded, Nicolò wiping the tears away. “Just like you cannot see the beauty in each line, or the desire in each streak of red....”</p><p> </p><p>Yusuf pulled Nicolò to him, connecting their lips hard swallowing the cries of shock, then the moan of pleasure.  Yusuf needed to feel something besides the nothing that was deep within his soul.  All he had known for almost seven years is war.  For almost five of those years Nicolò was his goal, he would defeat him, he would send the head of the son of his great enemy back to him.  Only Nicolò proved to match him in every way.  There was no a language he could speak that Nicolò did not know just as well.  That tall lean body was strong, capable, and could endure whatever Yusuf throw at him. To his shame Yusuf had desired him for longer than he would admit, he hated Nicolò for that.</p><p> </p><p>Pulling him into the back the door slammed shut, all Yusuf wanted was him naked under him.  Nicolò hated that Yusuf had shaved, he barely had any beard any longer and he loathe whoever made that happen.  The moment the door closed they began to undress quickly.  Yusuf grabbing him for another brutal kiss as soon as they were both naked stumbling towards the room he used as a bedroom.  Nicolò toss him on the bed Yusuf sliding up as Nicolò climbing on the bed watching him. Then sinking teeth into tender flesh of Yusuf thighs, he didn't know that was something you could do.  Yusuf gasped, he didn't think his thighs would feel this good, but apparently they did, apparently he liked this, like it a lot.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò inhaled Yusuf scent, he smelled better during a battle but Nicolò had been dreaming about this for too long to dwell on that.  The way Yusuf cried out his name as he took him into mouth, sinking down on all of him, nose coming to contact with black curls.  Hands threading through short silky locks, that were once longer, so much longer.  Yusuf missed the long hair that would go everywhere during a battle.  Always tied tightly into a knot, but by the end would be around his shoulder dirty with sand, sweat, and a mix of wet and dried blood.  Suckling on the swollen head, his tongue massaging the underside of the crown, laughing as Yusuf pulled at his hair.  Nicolò sank down on him again, then he would repeat this over and over again.  Yusuf swore he was dying, had never had a lover take all of him.  Never had a lover moan like he tasted heavenly, like they could do this forever and never tire of the action.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò face was one of pure ecstasy, there was no mistaking that.  Yusuf had seen faces of pleasure but this look stole his breath, he had never seen it directed at him.  Nicolò loved the way he tasted, loved the way he stretched his throat on the side of too big, Nicolò needed this, needed Yusuf.  Yusuf cried as he came without any warning as the pad of one of Nicolò's finger massage the tight ring around his hole.  Never entering, not even trying just enough as the pressure that combined with the tight wet heat of his mouth on his hard cock sent him falling over the edge.  Screaming while pulling Nicolò hair once again.  Slowly Nicolò mouth let him go, licking at the head before rising up to his knees licking his lips, wiping the spit away from his chin, sucking on those fingers.  Yusuf was pretty sure Nicolò was a god put in human form.</p><p> </p><p>"Feel better," Nicolò asked gently rubbing his thighs gently. Yusuf laughed nodding, wanting to speak but Nicolò stole his words.  No one lover had done that, he had brought lover to climax with his words.  Then the sun hit him just right, Yusuf truly believed he looked angelic.</p><p> </p><p>Yusuf closed his eyes as Nicolò bent down kissing and suck up his body, loving every inch of skin that he could get his mouth on.  Until Yusuf finally rolled them over connecting their lips moaning as he knew he was tasting himself.  Then whimpered a whine as Nicolò spread his legs allowing Yusuf the room he needed to settle between them.  He had no supplies here, no one had ever seen this bedroom.  This was his space, he never took lovers here, well not unit today.  Gazing down at Nicolò, he liked how their hands looked pressed together, he liked how Nicolò tasted on his tongue.  Mostly he knew he could become addicted to how wrecked Nicolò looked under him.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò was quiet compared to him, he wondered if that came from years of conditioning.  He had heard from many that the men of Genoa were told their job was to please their partner, their pleasure came second.  Yusuf had heard from the shadows how women who had taken Genoa lovers stated they remained dead silent.  As if showing their own pleasure was a disgrace, Yusuf wanted to hear Nicolò, he wanted that disgrace for him.  Yusuf would never tell, he wanted to know what he sounded like. </p><p> </p><p>Nicolò was dizzy, though not the beard Nicolò desired the one he had scrapped in just the right way.  Hands twisting soft sheets as Yusuf tongue slipped inside of him, both of them moaning.  Then a finger, as a mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  Yusuf was pleased to see that Nicolò matched him in that as well, though sad he was not as good as Nicolò.  Yusuf didn't want to know how he was so good, though he knew he had no right.  Before the war he had many lover, but none since he returned, not until today. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf grinned when he got his way, Nicolò arching into his mouth crying out his name as two fingers curved just right.  Yusuf normally never let anyone come in his mouth, he wasn't against it but it just seemed, well more intimate in his mind.  Most of his lovers were just there for a night maybe two then they'd move on when they realized they held no chance of winning his hand.  His mother had been hoping for years Andy would agreed to marrying him, but that wasn't happening.  Honestly, if she said no he saw war coming.  Falling to his side Yusuf laughed, he hadn't felt this good in years.</p><p> </p><p>"We should have done this years ago," Nicolò hummed looking over at Yusuf who nodded. "Have I finally found the way to steal Yusuf al-Kaysani of his words." Nicolò turned to him grinning widely.</p><p>"I don't talk that much," Yusuf argued frowning, then laughing as Nicolò's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.</p><p>"Do not fear I like when you speak," Nicolò admitted watching Yusuf look at him. "Sometimes I would say thing in our battle that I knew would make you go off." Yusuf stopped looking at him thinking of how sometimes he would sling an insult that would have Yusuf stopping to go off longer than needed, those were battles he usually lost to Nicolò.</p><p>"Are you telling me you won many of our  battles because my words filled you will passion to do so," Yusuf asked sitting up along with him, watching his once enemy blush looking away. Yusuf tried to speak but just looked at him opened mouth, Nicolò just laughed until he leaned forward to kiss him again.  </p><p>"Now may I say Prince Yusuf," Nicolò stated his voice going all stern and polished. "Your tour has been the highlight of my trip so far." Yusuf laughed finding himself climbing into Nicolò lap devouring his lips then shrieking moments later as Nicolò flipped them over again.</p><p> </p><p>They were late for their tea with Queen Amira, something Quynh smirked about over her tea cup as Yusuf went on a long explanation as to why.  Both Nicolò and Quynh figured she did not believe him, but her smile seemed to sooth her son.</p><p> </p><p>XOXO</p><p> </p><p>William was a spoiled brat.  Stephano had to apologize for him several times turning red in shame, then ordered him to go to his room.  It was clear that he didn't want to be here, and more so that he still wanted there to be war.  Both Kings had gone off to speak, Amira publicly annoyed that he would do so without her.  Then angry flashed in her eyes when he invited King Andromache into the room.  Yusuf took this chance to offer a sparring session to his once enemy, no one missing the twinkle in either of their eyes.  No one had missed the fact that Yusuf had taken to being his personal guide the last couple days. Or that those guide sessions didn't involve much leaving of the palace.</p><p> </p><p>Then there was the fact that Nicolò had defeated all his brothers in sparring yesterday, even his father seemed impressed.  His mother had watched fondly, there was no mistaking the look in either Yusuf or Nicolò's eyes.  Andy had whispered he may want to invest in thicker pants, luckily no one heard or saw him readjust himself.  Everyone watched in awe as Nicolò accepted Andy's request, later she admitted that he last longer than anyone had since in many years.  She was pleasantly surprise especially given that he had fought four before her.  Yusuf blushed when she winked at him as she walked by, thus giving her seal of approval.</p><p> </p><p>Quynh and Nicolò talked after that sparring, she felt bad for using him to get a rise out of Andromache, especially since it did not work.  Nicolò laughed watching her eyeing him slowly, then watched her eyes go wide with hope when he exclaimed it did work.  He did not tell her what he knew was not his place to say, but he advised her he knew that Andromache did feel deep love for her.  Watched as her face softened when Nicolò explained that the moment she walks into a room Andromache's eyes are on her.  There was no mistaking that look, it was one of pure love and admiration.  Quynh smiled gently, then sadly, remarked he wears the same one for Yusuf.</p><p> </p><p>Both knowing their time together would soon come to an end.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò walked into the dinner hall after being announced wearing his best clothing, William was nowhere to be seen.  Nicolò had been told by Quynh just hours before as he and Yusuf were sparring that a formal dinner was taking place tonight.  Both of them knew that their fathers wanted a way to mark one year of peace.  Men that had spent their lives hating one another, were now old and tired.  Yusuf's brothers did not want war, unlike William they had spent a year in battle.  But like William everyone knew who they were, so they did not get into real campaigns like Yusuf or Nicolò.  Though Nicolò knows without doubt if ordered they would have gone unlike William. </p><p> </p><p>Queen Amira greets him first, smiling slyly as Yusuf comes into view.  Both of them wearing their crowns, each of Amira's sons were designated a color at birth.  Yusuf was red, the color suited him well.  Against the light of the candles it made him glow.  Quynh wore a lovely cream color gown, attempted to hide her grin as both men bowed to each other.  None of them missing the rolling of eyes of his brother or the quiet giggles their wives gave while looking at each other knowingly.  But the playfulness of Yusuf and Nicolò was cut short as King Andromache was announced in the room.</p><p> </p><p>"What is King Andromache doing here," Yusuf asked knowing how she felt about Andromache being called Andy.  His mother did not approve of anything Andromache's did since the death of her father.</p><p>"That is a good questions my son," Queen Amira stated, cold eyes going to his and Nicolò's fathers who greeted Andromache happily. </p><p>"I do not have a good feeling about this," Nicolò whispered to Yusuf, who looked over to him nodding.</p><p> </p><p>Soon everyone was being seated, like what was normal when guest kings come, Stephano sat at the opposite end of the head of the table that usually went to Amira.  Those chairs were different than the rest, showing their status.  Andromache would sit in the middle a matching chair of the other two kings had been brought out.  Andromache had stated it was of no concern but they watched Ibrahim state no, she was a king.  Yusuf and his brothers held their breath as their gaze went to their mother.  She refused to honor that title.  </p><p> </p><p>None of them could hide their shock as they were seat, it seemed Ibrahim had assigned seats. Yusuf smiled widely as Nicolò was sat directly in front of him.  Which no one would think of as unusual, but what was unusual is that Nicolò sat next to Andromache, who was now sitting across from Quynh.  Quynh always sat next to their mother, Yusuf sister's bickered at times she loved her more than them.  But they knew it was because of the promise.  Quynh's mother died to protect her, so she felt indebted to ensure that Quynh had what her mother could not have.  The best education, the finest training, clothes of the best materials, and a husband who would give her a title that she was raised to have. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf would argue Andromache wanted to make her a Queen, but her mother's only response was, a Queen doesn't make another Queen.</p><p> </p><p>"As you know Stephano and I have been speaking about a way to ensure that peace remains for hundreds of generations," Ibrahim started looking at his sons, then to Amira who looked horrified. "King Andromache has been a neutral party for us both for many years." Yusuf had known this, but clearly Nicolò did not. " It was Andromache that wrote up our treaty, and handled negations." Amira looked to Andromache, she did not know this, then her eyes went to Quynh.  "We have called upon her once again to help us come up with a way to solidify our need to make peace permanent."</p><p>"What have you done," Queen Amira asked looking out towards everyone whose face mimicked hers, then Andromache stood up, her crown shifting only slightly. A King's Crown.  </p><p>"It is my recommendation that Nicolò Genova be named the Genoa Kingdom's future king," Andromache stated watching as Nicolò gasped looking at his father who nodded. "I also highly recommend that with his approval, Yusuf al-Kaysani marry Nicolò, becoming the future King Consort of Genoa, and becoming the first Maghreb Kingdom representative of the new Council of Kingdoms." </p><p>"No," Queen Amira snapped looking to her husband.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò knew of this Council of Kingdoms well, it was his idea after all.  He thought it would be a good idea that all kingdoms sign a treaty, to prove that they could count on one another.  Also so that each kingdom knew what to expect from the other.  It was not saying they would change their laws, only that they understood what the laws of the other kingdoms were.  His father had liked the idea, his advisors had laughed and then William had laughed so it died.  That was when he decided to tour the Maghreb Kingdom. </p><p> </p><p>Nicolò looked to Yusuf as Andromache had been talking, watched his eyes that always spoke to him.  The moment she said it, Yusuf eyes were on him, then they were on his mother's.  He knew that Amira had plans for him, there were so many nice woman that would marry him.  They would be easy for Amira to dominate, to show that she was the Queen Mother, she ruled over them.  His brothers all married nice girls who they loved, all of them coming from good families.  Part of him was scared that his mother was hoping he'd finally agree to marry Quynh, making her position in their family official. </p><p> </p><p>Yusuf knew now more than ever, Nicolò was his destiny. </p><p> </p><p>"If we do this," Nicolò asked looking at Yusuf who looked at him wide hopeful eyes. "Does this mean you'll sign the treaty," Andromache laughed at him her eyes bright.</p><p>"I knew I'd like you Nicky," Andromache laughed, Nicolò shooting her look, Nicolò looking to Stephano who nodded. " Nicolò Genova, you'll have my word, my sword, and my army." Nicolò looked at Yusuf smiling.</p><p>"I accept Andromache recommendations," Yusuf stated looking at his father who nodded smiling, then to his mother who was shaking her head no. "Mother," Yusuf voice went soft. "Nicolò and I are each other's equal in every way.  I have not one doubt in my heart or in my soul that this moment right here is the reason that lead me to going to war.  That those years of blood, of anguish and great sorrow and pain were so that I may gaze upon him, and know my true path." Yusuf looked at him smiling, softly. "Which is by his side, always."</p><p>"You realize you're signing up for a life time of this," Andromache told Nicolò sitting down, watching Nicolò face lights up as Quynh giggles.</p><p>"I cannot wait," Nicolò admitted watching as Yusuf face shined just as bright as his.</p><p>"Tomorrow you both will sign the papers honoring this agreement," Stephano smiled looking to Ibrahim who grinned widely, even Amira smiled.  She could never be angry at Yusuf, not when he spoke from his heart. "Tonight we celebrate, to keeping the long awaited peace of our kingdoms and to our future as family."</p><p> </p><p>Ibrahim clapped looking over to Amira, he knew that she would be angry.  He had loved her for many years and would love her for many more if he was so blessed.  Stephano was not so blessed, the man had confessed he grew weaker by the months.  He was holding on to life until he knew his Kingdom would not fall, it was a great fear.  His blind anger at the world had drove one son to the church, William to such hate, and he thought Nicolò would be lost to war.  But then he realized his youngest son, had his mother's heart and her will to survive. </p><p> </p><p>Andromache came in right away, spoke the words Stephano  had longed to hear, Nicolò should be named heir.  It would surprise many people that he had never named William heir, he never named an heir.  Everyone assumed William was, as his wife always called him High Prince William.  That mostly came because he had her father's name, he was not the Genoa heir.  Going to William's room tonight, he instructed his son to remain there, he would be leaving tomorrow.  He knew William would make a scene if he knew, he would wait until it was announced.  Which wouldn't be until they returned.</p><p> </p><p>Ibrahim looked over to Andromache who smile was as sad as it was beautiful, she had been a great ally.  Never did she betray him, nor did she betray Genoa.  She always made sure to never cross that line, at time he was angry, at times he wanted her on his side only.  Maybe that was why he had been allowing his wife to do what she had been doing, but no longer.  He stood up, looking at Amira who shook her head no, her eyes begging.  He could no longer let Andromache heart break, nor could he let the heart of a girl he called daughter hurt any longer.</p><p> </p><p>"It is our custom that all should have a choice in who they marry," Ibrahim stated gently looking to his wife then back to Yusuf who smiled as his gazed at his soon to be beloved. "My sons and my daughters have all found their matches by their heart, for that I am blessed." Ibrahim eyes went to Quynh who looked up at him so hopeful. "Quynh you have asked many times for me to present you as bride to Andromache, and I declined each time. We had hoped you and Yusuf would find love together but fate had different plans it seemed." Andromache face went blank, it was clear to everyone in the room she did not know about this. "Andromache, my friend, my fellow King, has asked for your hand, the choice like with all my children is solely up to you." Ibrahim eyes went to Amira who was not readable, he hoped she would forgive him.</p><p>"This is where you answer," Yusuf whispered to her, laughing when she shot him a harsh glare.</p><p>"It would be an honor to accept," Quynh grinned turning bright red, watching Andromache normally stoic face turned bright with a smile.</p><p>"Now we drink," Andromache announced raising her glass winking at Quynh who beamed.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò had no false sense of security, he knew outside this room battles were still being fought, on a war that was over.  He knew William was up in his room writing down all he could about what he was learning of this place.  He wanted war, he wanted to invade these people and own them.  Nicolò was not blind to what people like William actually wanted, and that was slaves.  His father had outlawed that in his first year as king, being the last to do so.  He knew William and so many other wanted it back.</p><p> </p><p>But as Nicolò looked over the table at Yusuf, the man that was once his enemy.  A man he met on the battlefield for five years, the man who had stolen his heart with each blow of his sword. He could not care, not right now. His father wanted peace, like real honest peace.  Yusuf wanted him, felt what he felt for him.  A man who words could woo any man or woman in any kingdom, and he wanted him.  He could not think about the fact his father wanted him to be king.  If he did he would pass out, he'd freak later.  Right now, he would enjoy sitting across from the man he would marry, the man whose smile was as bright as the very sun.  The man who was if Nicolò  had a say going to be growing his beard out.</p><p> </p><p>Nicolò blushed as Yusuf winked, almost liked he heard his thought, suddenly they both looked away cheeks flushed.  Nicolò could get used to feeling like this.</p><p> </p><p>The End</p>
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